by Alex Burns
We drove on, weaving through the suburban streets to get to the freeway. I slowed down.
“Move,” I muttered. A pack of dogs stood in the middle of the road, picking at a carcass of… something. I couldn’t tell what it was and didn’t want to look too closely to find out. It was a motley pack of dogs; a couple of poodles, a terrier of some sort, a chocolate Labrador, a pit bull, two Border Collies and a dog that could have been Maggie’s twin, as well as a few mixes. With a stab I realised that these dogs owners were probably all dead, and the poor dogs had to fend for themselves. I felt sick, wondering how many cats, dogs, guinea pigs, pet rats, pet birds were stuck in cages or houses with no access to food or water with their owners gone. There must be thousands. More. My mind shied away from the numbers and I thrust the thought away.
“Can we take them with us?” Charlotte asked, staring out at the dogs. The Labrador trotted towards us, wagging his tail.
“I wish we could, pumpkin, but we don’t have any room.”
“But what we will they do?” Worry laced her young voice. “They must be lost.”
“Their owners will find them,” I said after a moment. I really hoped my niece wouldn’t remember all of the lies I’d told that day when she was older. I manoeuvred the SUV slowly around the dogs. A few of them barked at us. I glanced back at Maggie sitting in the back seat. She was watching them with interest but thankfully didn’t start barking or get too worked up.
We drove on. I kept an eye out for any people, or… I didn’t even know what I was looking for.
“Charlotte, can you check on Mr Mister and make sure he’s okay?” I said suddenly, hoping I’d been quick enough. The little girl obediently bent her head down and carefully opened the edge of the shoebox, peeking in at her pet.
I sped up a little bit to get past the car accident on the side of the road. Some poor person had run off the road and hit a tree, hard. Debris littered held the road. I caught a glimpse of the driver still slumped over the wheel, very obviously dead. He was missing an arm. A body so mutilated I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or woman lay in front of the smashed wreck with a trio of crows standing guard. The birds looked up as we drove by but quickly went back to their meal. I felt the bile rising in my throat.
“He’s good,” Charlotte said. I swallowed, forcing myself to stay calm and nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak just yet.
“Auntie Alice, I think he’d like to run around for a bit,” Charlotte added.
I cleared my throat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Just trust me, kiddo.”
“But -” Charlotte started.
“No, Charlotte,” I said firmly. “It’s not a good idea. He might get under the seat, or under my feet and I could squash him, or…” I trailed off, staring at a car that was coming towards us. It might seem odd, but I was still mostly sticking to the speed limits. These people weren’t. They zoomed by us at at least 140 kilometres an hour. I barely even caught a glimpse of the people in the car. They didn’t slow down or stop at the sight of us. I glanced in the rearview mirror, but they were already out of sight. I blinked, wondering if they’d been real.
“They’re going too fast, aren’t they?” Charlotte’s voice piped up, distracted from her free the guinea pig plot and confirming that the speeding car hadn’t been a figment of my imagination.
“They sure were,” I said.
“The police will catch them,” Charlotte said firmly. I felt like crying again.
“Where is everyone?” Charlotte asked twenty minutes later. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice the strange lack of traffic or people.
“At home, I guess…” I said after a moment.
“Oh, okay.” Charlotte seemed satisfied with my lame answer.
We reached the freeway. There were more accidents that hadn’t been cleaned up, and it became more difficult to distract Charlotte each time. I gave up in the end. She didn’t say much, just stared with her wide blue eyes.
It started raining again. I had to slow right down to manoeuvre around a particularly bad accident that blocked most of the freeway. Charlotte dozed off somewhere past Werribee. I wondered what would happen to all of the zoo animals when we drove past the cheerful sign, inviting us to come and visit. They animals at Werribee probably had a better chance of survival than those at the city zoo. Werribee was an open range zoo after all, lots of the animals were in huge paddocks. Not all though. Surely someone would come and help them? Surely people were just scared and staying in their homes at the moment, and that’s why I’d barely seen anyone. Surely they couldn’t all be dead. There had to be more people like Charlotte who’d gotten sick but recovered. Perhaps they were still weak and bedridden, and soon enough things would start to go back to normal. Normal-ish. Nothing would ever be normal for me again, not with my sister and best friend both dead. Nor for Charlotte either…
“A lion! Auntie Alice! A lion! I saw a lion! Look! There!” Charlotte called out excitedly, all but jumping out of her seat. I glanced over to where she was pointing, and sure enough, a lion, a mother fucking lion, was running after a startled flock of sheep.
“Holy shit,” I yelped, and then glanced guiltily at my niece. She ignored my outburst and squirmed around in her seat, avidly watching the giant cat. I slowed the car down briefly to watch the insane spectacle of a lion hunting on the plains of Victoria, then wondered at the wisdom of it and sped up again. What else was out there?
Half an hour later we reached the turn off to Geelong. Charlotte had been too excited by the lion sighting to sleep again. She kept her eyes peeled for any other exotic animals, but all we saw was the usual sheep, cows, and a flock of pelicans soaring high above us.
A huge barricade was blocking the freeway exit.
CITY UNDER QUARANTINE! NO ENTRANCE!
A military looking tent with a red cross on it was off to the side of the road. I slowed right down and pulled up next to the tent, hoping that the people inside the tent would be able to give me some answers.
I sat in the warm, rumbling car for a minute, staring intently at the tent. I had expected someone to come out.
“Auntie Alice, what are we doing?” Charlotte’s small voice shook me out of whatever hesitation I’d had.
“I just want to check something,” I said. “Wait here.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and jumped out of the SUV, glancing back to make sure Charlotte wasn’t following me.
“Hello?” I called out. The tent door flapped in the wine. I shivered, wishing I’d thought to grab my coat. I hesitated outside the tent, listening intently. I couldn’t hear any sign of humans. I remembered the lion with a start and looked around, wondering what else had escaped the zoo. Did they have tigers there? I couldn’t remember. I surveyed the surrounding grasslands, but I was all alone as far as I could tell.
I cleared my throat and called out again. No response. I pushed into the tent. It was empty but for a simple desk and a pile of plastic chairs.
I let out a deep sigh, not realising until then how much I’d been hoping someone with some sort of authority would be there to explain everything.
I turned my back on the tent and climbed back into the SUV. We turned away from the city, onto the road that would take us home.
Chapter Eleven
The gravel crunched under the car tyres. The sound always reminded me of coming home. Mum’s house looked surprisingly normal. Horatio, the border collie, bounded out to the strange car, barking like mad. The crazily wiggling backside and frantic tail wagging betrayed the fact that Horatio’s intentions were more bent to greeting the newcomers than scaring them off.
It was only when I’d reached the outskirts of Turalla that the thought Mum might not be alive crossed my mind. I banished the thought and felt an intense rush of relief when the front door opened and Mum came out. She looked thinner, and her hair was in a messy bun, but it was Mum. Solid, there, alive.
She frowned at the SUV with her
arms crossed, obviously not recognising it. I turned the ignition off and opened the door. Mum’s face lit up.
“Alice! Thank goodness.” Mum rushed over and had me in a bone crushing hug before I could fully get out of the vehicle.
“Hello, Grandma!” Charlotte piped up.
Mum froze and then slowly peeled herself off me. She glanced at her granddaughter and then switched her gaze back to mine. Mum stared at me intently, questions written in her desperate gaze. My breath hitched and I gave a small shake of my head. Mum’s hand shot to her mouth. She closed her eyes, a look of intense pain crossing her features. Her eyes glistened when she opened them again.
“Hello, my darling,” Mum said after a long minute. Her voice wavered as she continued. “Let’s get your inside, shall we? You must be hungry after that drive.”
Charlotte nodded. I climbed down and went around to the passenger side to help Charlotte get out. Horatio bounced at my side, whining and trying to lick my hand.
“Hey, boy. I brought a friend for you. Hang on a sec, Charlotte.” I opened the back door and Maggie jumped out. Horatio wasn’t a small dog, but Maggie dwarfed him. We all watched while the two dogs sniffed each other. I let out a small sigh of relied when, seemingly satisfied, they bounded off together.
I turned back to Charlotte and took the shoebox containing her guinea pig from her. She carefully climbed down and then ran into Mum’s waiting arms. I watched them, wiping the tears away before Charlotte turned back to look at me. Mum didn’t seem to want to let her go. Charlotte was starting to squirm.
“Mum,” I said after a minute or two and gave her a pointed look.
“Right. Yes.” Mum loosened her grip on Charlotte and kissed her on the top of the head. “Honey, do you want to go down and say hello to Sammy? He missed you.”
“Yes!” Charlotte darted off towards the back paddock where Sammy the pony lived. He was a cantankerous little beast whose main goal in life seemed to be to get inside the house. He was yet to succeed.
“What happened? Where’s Sarah?” Mum asked quietly once Charlotte was out of earshot.
“Oh, Mum. It was horrible.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A little wail escaped from Mum’s lips but she got herself under control and reached for me. We stood there, clutching each other, while I told her what I’d found at Sarah and Chris’ home. She held me while I broke her heart.
“Oh my goodness. My poor darlings, my poor, poor darlings.”
Somehow we’d ended up sitting on the damp grass. I hadn’t even noticed.
“We should feed Charlotte,” I said eventually. “She’s been living on jam sandwiches since…” I trailed off. It was surreal that my sister was gone. It struck me suddenly; Charlotte was an orphan. I sniffed and tried to control my tears, but I couldn’t. A wall cracked inside me. All the emotions I’d been holding back, not allowing myself to feel while I had a mission to do, came rushing out.
Mum wordlessly gathered me up in her arms like I was a small child again. I cried and cried until I felt empty inside and my head ached. I don’t know how long we sat there, both in tears, crying for our family.
“How is this happening?” I asked with a hiccup.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Mum rocked me back and forth. “I keep hoping I’ll wake up and this will just be one of my silly dreams, and you kids will all laugh at me.”
“Me too, Mum.”
“Come on,” Mum stood up and held her hand out to me. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm. I’ve got the fire going.”
Mum called out to Charlotte. The little girl came running, and started telling us a story about the pony but stopped, words dying on her lips. She glanced worriedly between me and Mum. Mum smoothed her face and held out her hand for Charlotte.
“Come on, darling. I’ll make you some pancakes. How does that sound?”
Charlotte nodded but still looked wary. She was six, not stupid. Mum’s face was red and blotchy, and I didn’t even want to think what I looked like. A total mess, for sure. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and followed Mum and my niece into the house. As promised, it was warm inside, with a fire cheerfully burning away in the wood heater in the living room.
Mum led Charlotte into the kitchen, but I peeled off towards the bathroom to clean myself up. I gave myself a scare when I looked in the mirror. My hair was a greasy mess, my face was bright red and blotchy, and my eyes were puffy and bloodshot. My eyes scared me the most. Bloodshot eyes were a symptom of the Red Death. I stared at my reflection for a minute before realising my eyes were most likely just red from crying. I hoped. I splashed cold water on my face and dabbed at my eyes. The cold water felt soothing on my hot face. I still looked like a mess, but not quite as bad.
Mum was bustling around the kitchen getting out flour, eggs and milk for the pancakes. I leaned against the bench and watched while Mum directed Charlotte in the construction of the pancake mixture.
“You have power.” I belatedly realised the lights were on and I could hear the hum of the fridge. Something so normal, but a sound I hadn’t heard for days.
“Solar power,” Mum said, glancing at me over Charlotte’s blonde head. I nodded. One of Mum’s goals over the years had been to go off-grid. She hadn’t quite got there as far as I knew, but maybe she was further along than I realised.
“I got a new battery last month. It charges during the day and I can use the power at night.”
“Nifty,” I said. Somehow we were managing to ignore the elephant in the room and focused our attention on Charlotte. Mum pushed me down into one of the kitchen seats and plonked a steaming cup of tea in front of me. I nursed it in my hands, relishing the heat.
Charlotte demolished her first plate of pancakes, shovelling spoonfuls of brown sugar and squeezing copious amounts of lemon juice on her pile. I found myself impressed that she managed to eat them all. My own pancake sat mostly uneaten on my plate. Mum didn’t touch hers.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Charlotte. You’re covered in sugar and juice!”
Charlotte giggled and wiped her mouth, but all she achieved was to smear the mess worse. She followed Mum out of the kitchen and I was left alone. I tried to eat another bite of pancake, but my stomach rebelled and I spat it out. I looked around the kitchen, thinking I should tidy it up but it all felt too hard.
I rested my head on my arms, but all I could see what Sarah’s frozen dead face when I closed my eyes.
“I’ve set Charlotte up with a movie,” Mum said, coming back in a little while later. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
I shook my head mutely. Mum reached out and rubbed my back. We sat in silence for a few minutes.
“She thought they were just sleeping. She said she kept trying to wake them up,” I said quietly, breaking the silence.
“Poor child.” Mum closed her eyes and tried to get her breathing under control. “You just left them there? In their bed?”
I nodded, feeling slightly defensive. “There wasn’t much else I could do. I couldn’t exactly call the morgue or dig a grave in their backyard.”
“No… I suppose not. It just feels… I don’t know.”
I reached out and squeezed Mum’s hand. “I know. It feels wrong. But…” I trailed off and we sat in silence again. “What’s been going on here?” I asked after a few minutes, trying to distract us both from the morbid reality of my sister and her husband lying dead in their beds and staying that way for the foreseeable future.
Mum shook her head. “It’s a very strange time we’re living through, Alice.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s fucking nuts.”
“Language…”
“Sorry, Mum.”
Mum sighed. “I suppose if there were a time where it was appropriate to swear, this would be it.” Mum drained her cup of tea and got up, flicking the kettle on. “Do you want another one?”
“No, thanks.” My first cup was still mostly full, although a bit cold.
“Shit,” Mum said. I looked at her in sur
prise. “Sarah’s really gone?”
I nodded, unable to speak again.
“I can’t believe it,” Mum muttered, running her hand through her hair. “I know it’s true, but I don’t want to believe it… thank goodness we still have Charlotte.”
“She was sick… I was actually surprised when she answered the door today.”
“Well she’s better now,” Mum said with a firm nod of her head.
“Do you know anyone else whose caught it but survived?” I asked after a moment.
Mum cocked her head and then shook it slowly. “No, although I don’t really know a whole lot. I’ve been holed up here most of the time. Ina’s still alive and kicking, I know that.” Some good news, at least. The old lady next door must have been in her early nineties. We’d gone over there a lot when we were kids. Ina had always had a jar of lollies or chocolate ready for us. She only had one grandchild herself who she didn’t get to see very often, and always seemed to regard us Buchanan kids as her local surrogate grandchildren. I felt a twinge of guilt. I hadn’t gone over to visit her for a long time.
“Ina will still be alive when she’s one hundred and twenty and the world’s burnt down around us,” I said with a forced laugh.
“Probably. Lynette and George didn’t make it,” Mum said quietly, quickly, as if she were ripping off a painful bandaid.
“Oh…” Lynette’s cheerful face popped into my mind. She was Mum’s neighbour on the other side and always up for a chat if she saw you in the yard. George was a quiet man, always sitting back and letting his more gregarious wife command the conversation. “Shit.”
“Yeah…”
“Who else?” I asked.
Mum took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There are a few left still alive that I know of.”
“Is it really that bad? It’s easier to tell me whose alive rather than who died?” I asked grimly.
Mum nodded, her chin wobbling. “I’m sorry, Alice. I’m… I’m not used to this. The scale… it’s unimaginable, even for someone like me who imagines this kind of stuff a lot.”
